


Zugzwang

by Spylace



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Character Turned Into Vampire, Gen, M/M, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 03:05:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spylace/pseuds/Spylace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the eighteenth day, McCoy’s eyes fluttered open to reveal the color of yellow sand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zugzwang

**Author's Note:**

> Repost!
> 
> Zugzwang; or a situation in a chess game in which a player is forced to make an undesirable or disadvantageous move.
> 
> Written for a challenge on the comm [jim-and-bones](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/) (f-locked)

“We asked you to cure him not...”  
  
He swallowed, unable to say anything else. Because speaking out loud would only give credence to the words, because once they were safely back on the ship, Bones would kill him.  
  
But all he could think about now is the weight of his CMO in his arms, warm and solid and smelling faintly of soap and sweat, no longer hot and swollen with the feverish pitch that came with a terminal-stage xenopolycythemia.  
  
“He is no longer dying yes?” The alien queen’s voice was smug, so sure of her strength and perceived benevolence. There were no guards to protect her in the sanctity of her reception; she had no need for them. “He was sweet this one, such rarity—sweet and bitter while his thoughts ran over like blood. ‘Crushed oranges’, he said, when he first tasted me. It is a pity we could not have kept him longer.”  
  
Jim wasn’t aware that he had reacted until he had his phaser drawn and lined with her face; Spock’s belated warning at his back. The woman looked at him coolly; her immortal gaze bright and narrowed as though she has found something distasteful. Jim’s hand shook before it fell to his side, the phaser clattering loudly on the floor. Uhura let out a small gasp as their host stood and curled a proprietary hand in his hair.  
  
She breathed against the side of his face, her breath cold and foreign, odorless save for a coppery tang. “You should be more grateful Terran.” Casually, she licked the line of his ear. Then she froze as someone rasped, “ _Don’t_ ”  
  
McCoy sounded absolutely _wrecked_ as he wrapped a broad hand across her clavicle. Immediately, the woman’s pale face melted into that of maternal joy, abandoning the blond captain for her latest creation. Her eyes barely flickered as his grip tightened, only surprise and wonder painting her expression—surprise that he has woken up so fast, so soon. The other man groaned when she stroked his stubble-rough skin though he leaned into her touch, only Jim’s embrace holding him back. “Don’t make me choose.”  
  
“Of course” The queen’s lips spread thinly like a gash across the bottom half of her face. She reclaimed her throne, kicking her feet idly. “It doesn’t matter anyways.”  


***

  
McCoy slept, a lot.  
  
After spending the first week back on the Enterprise under the tender mercies of her acting CMO and the head nurse, he was deemed fit enough to sleep in his quarters with minimal supervision. When he wasn’t asleep, he was being force fed a quart of replicated blood every day. According to the data packet the alien queen sent before they warped out of her galaxy, his hunger would recede when he was older, stronger—when his transformation was complete.  
  
Jim watched as slowly but surely, the colors bleached from his lover’s skin.  
  
“We’ll beat this.” He whispered to his unconscious lover. “No matter what happens, we’re going to beat this.”  


***

  
On the eighteenth day, McCoy’s eyes fluttered open to reveal the color of yellow sand. He didn’t explode in anger; he didn’t throw himself back against the bed dramatically. He didn’t even attack him which was what Jim had been half-expecting.  
  
“Jim,” He said hoarsely. “What the fuck did you do?”  


***

  
“You should have let me die.”  
  
“What? Like the times you let me bleed out on the table!?”  
  
“That was you trying to get your fool ass killed out there. I was sick, it wasn’t anyone’s fault!”  
  
“You’re thirty-six!” Jim bellowed, grabbing the other man by the arm. “You know what you’re supposed be doing at thirty-six?”  
  
“It hell ain’t sittin’ around and sippin’ blood for the rest of my life!”  
  
When Jim finally managed an answer, his voice came out cracked, hushed and broken like a kid who’d been told his entire world was ending.  
  
“What would you have done Bones?” He asked quietly. “What if I’d been the one who was sick? Would you have given up on me?”  
  
The other man glared unrepentant and Jim went on, “You don’t get it. You told me you were going to die and that you weren’t even going to fight it.” He pulled him close, until their foreheads touched. Centimeters apart, the other man’s eyes proved to be even more exotic, like liquid gold set to boil. He hissed, “Did you know how much I hated you right then?”  
  
McCoy’s lips were soft, parting easily against his mouth. Boldly, he ran his tongue across the rows of perfect teeth and the extended canines. The doctor, like his creator the alien queen of the nameless planet, was cool, not quite room temperature and slightly warmer where they touched, his fingers stealing the heat of his skin.  
  
“Jim... Jim...”  
  
“Shh...”  
  
McCoy let out a strangled sob, the interruption in his breathing making him fear that the man had stopped altogether. But he continued to pepper his chin with faint puffs of air and Jim buried his face against the crook of his neck, quivering when spittle-slick lips trailed beneath his jawline.  
  
Bones smelled faintly of soap and sweat, like laundry gone stale and a bed that hadn’t been slept in in a long time. He had no pulse and if they took a razor to his wrist, it wouldn’t bleed. Tricorders and any medical practitioner worth their salt would tell him that for all intents and purposes, his lover was dead. And that only made him hold on that much harder as Jim reasoned, “it’s okay Bones. It’s going to be okay.”  


***

  
Fangs buried themselves in his throat, blood spilling out in dark rivulets down the column of his neck. Jim lay on his altar of pillows and silk, ribs rising and falling in shallow waves as McCoy trailed down his sternomastoid to the dimples of his shoulders and the inside of his elbow which he licked with a broad swipe of his tongue. He kissed his wrist and sucked on his fingers like a newborn calf, his eyes bright and shiny like staring into twin suns.  


***

  
_“Jim... you’re so warm...”_

**Author's Note:**

> ...How Bones became Black Hat xD


End file.
